


the devil was once an angel

by jb_mar



Category: Critical Role (Web Series), Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Also It's basically canon that Molly was silent and remembers nothing so, Amnesia, Brotp, Mighty Nein, mute molly - Freeform, the mighty nein - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 05:51:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13968720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jb_mar/pseuds/jb_mar
Summary: Mollymauk wakes up in chains in the back of a cart and doesn't remember a thing. Yasha's sort of rough around the edges, but desperate to escape. The two figure out they make a surprisingly good duo.Since Tal and Ashley have both given us next to nothing about backstory stuff, here I am making my own AU that, while is most definitely wrong in every way, was super fun to write, because Yasha and Molly are my favorite dynamic in the new game and I cannot wait to explore them more, so here I am exploring for myself!





	the devil was once an angel

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to @gillytweed on tumblr for helping me bounce ideas around on how to make this work! This whole thing is based on a theory I have that Yasha was held captive in the Nine Hells for a while as some kind of aasimar slave (based on her episode nine comment about being "literally dragged from hell"), and I have this feeling that Molly was also held captive somewhere at some point, and I feel like either they met in captivity or they met in the circus and figured out that at one point they were both hostages somewhere and connected with that?? I'm also really fond of Yasha being secretly super soft and having a soft spot for Molly, and also Molly having this huge facade he puts on to just mask his fear, idk, everything is so fuzzy rn bc we know so little, and I wasn't sure where I was going with this really when I started, but I'm really happy how this came out! Thanks for the read!
> 
> \- Jules

He remembered waking up that morning. He remembered the dampness of the hay he awoke on. He remembered the streams of sunlight shining through the bars of the wooden walls in the tiny cart, landing softly on his eyelids as they began to groggily flutter open. He remembered all this, yes, but not much more. Looking around the little cart, he could see no more than the strong barriers encasing him, the heavy metal manacles interlocking his wrists together, and the rainy, cloudy day outside from the tiny barred off window just above his head. He could smell the brine of the ocean air, and just beyond his confinements, he watched the seabirds soar, dipping with the currents overhead. _Mollymauk…_ He remembered suddenly, watching the animals freely galavant. That was his name, wasn’t it? Mollymauk shut his eyes tight, trying to remember something, anything more.The tiefling’s head pounded every time he closed his eyes, seeing nothing but bright fire, glowing eyes, gnashing jaws, and noting the maniacal ringing of laughter echoing in his mind. Mollymauk had no clue what it all meant, all remnants of whatever his life was before hand had somehow vanished from his memory. Mollymauk must have had something before this, he figured. Looking over his lavender skin, he could see his body was worse for ware, cross stitched with clean cut scars across his chest and bare arms. Winding up the side of his neck and down his back was an unfamiliar mural etched into his body, the pictures and patterns no longer of any significance to him. It was strange, knowing he was once someone, but not being able to remember who that someone was.

Mollymauk’s gaze wandered to the other corner of the unit, settling on his cellmate. The woman before him was large, a Goliath in a world full of Davids. Her burly physique took up a little more than her fair share of the cart as she spread her legs, but it was fair, as Mollymauk was currently sitting all the way back in the opposite corner, curled inward on himself with his legs pulled taught to his chest, his tail wrapped around his whole body compressing him more. The woman’s white complexion stood out in the overall darkness and dampness of the cart. They had locked eyes a few times since Mollymauk had awoken. The eye contact had very quickly been broken by either one or the other, unwilling to prolong whatever awkward connection they had. Mollymauk would then let his eyes wander back to the shackles affixed to his wrists, sitting there quietly, trying to remember any details of anything. 

After parading around for what seemed like an eternity, the cart stopped suddenly, jerking and sending Mollymauk’s body banging against the back of the front seat. From here, Mollymauk could hear the sounds of conversation from the two men who had been transporting them, not enough to make out words, but enough to at least hear that they were talking. From his view at the window, he could just make out the drivers, two in their early thirties, one with greasy red brown hair, a wiry beard, and a massive pot belly, the other a skinny twig of a man with a noticeable bald spot. Mollymauk watched the pair as they both stepped off the vehicle, looking around as if they were waiting for someone. Mollymauk shifted to try and get a better view, rolling from his defensive position to his knees, one hand clasping a metal bar, the other dangling just below. At the rattle of the chain, the woman sighed a deep sigh, opening one eye, the purple one, and mulling over Mollymauk, who barely noticed as he kept his eyes fixed on the men moving around them, his tail twitching uncontrollably as his heart droned one heavy pump after the next. “Great…” She muttered, blowing a stray hair out of her eyes as the tiefling jumped at the sound of a voice. “Now you decide you want to be active. Just as I was about to take a nap?”

Mollymauk watched her for a moment, standing still and silent, as he tried to get a feel for what she was thinking. The woman raised an eyebrow, expectantly. “What? Nothing?” Mollymauk could see her biceps now, rippling as she sat up to a more comfortable position, opening the other eye as well, a shock icy blue. 

Mollymauk eyed her up for a moment before turning his attention back towards their captors outside without a word. The woman scoffed at that, moving her hands to her hair, trying to push the ratty mess back. “Fine. Suit yourself. Didn’t really feel like talking anyway.”

Mollymauk ignored the woman’s bitterness, continuing to watch the group outside. The larger man was addressing the smaller in a hushed tone, his body angled so his back was to them. Mollymauk’s eyes scanned the contents of the cargo from where he was, a few small bags, a giant greatsword wrapped in black cloth, and a rich purple beaded robe, wrapping what Mollymauk somehow knew to be two ornate scimitars, handles bejeweled and valuable. _Mine_ , The word rippled through his mind as he laid eyes on the flashy bundle. He bit his lip, watching as their captors were too enthralled in their conversation to give anyone the time of day, let alone catch a glimpse of their charge behind their back as he attempted to worm his manacled hands through the skinny gaps in between the bars, reaching for some weapon, any weapon just out of reach. His face twisted as he tried to stretch his arm out further, to no avail, as the chain caught, and Mollymauk let out a small grunt of frustration. “What are you doing?” He heard the disinterested tone of his cellmate drone, but he didn’t turn to face her, only kept trying to reach. He heard the clattering of metal and the sound of moving hay as he felt the woman’s presence next to him suddenly, a large hand clasped heavily on his shoulder. “Hey. Seriously, cool it. You’re gonna get yourself killed, and then I’m going to have to deal with two angry assholes who lost one of their charges and it won’t be pretty. So calm. The fuck. Down” 

With each punctuation, the woman’s hand tightened on the tiefling’s shoulder, her voice raising a little through gritted teeth. Mollymauk tensed, lowering his hands from the bars so they dangled just in front of him. Sighing, the woman took his hands in her own, turning his wrists over to examine where the cuffs had tugged. They were red and raw, not only from the struggle against his constraints, but as Mollymauk looked over his own wrists, he saw more scars, nail marks, scratches. He wondered how they had gotten there, what he had done to gain all these injuries, but not for long as the woman slowly ran her fingers over his bruises, strangely gentle for someone so ferocious looking. Mollymauk blinked and a few of his worst wounds had dissipated, dissolved into thin air under her dirt caked nails. Mollymauk looked from his hand to her face, and he could see her better now up close. Her face was painted with soot and ash, her hair matted and nasty looking, charred towards the bottoms that began to fade into a snow white from its black roots. Her eyes were tired, Mollymauk noted as she pulled back. Her face remained stone cold as she watched the wounds heal, raising an eyebrow as she addressed the tiefling once more. “Alright then. What is it that has you all excited all of a sudden?” She asked in a gruff tone.

Mollymauk pursed his lips, jerking his head towards the little window to the outside world. The woman’s eyes followed, groaning for a moment before standing up as much as she could, her own restraints reaching their limit as she stretched herself to see outside. Her eyes widened as she set her sights on the black clad sword laying loosely next to his own, a small chuckle crawling up in her throat. “You were trying to reach that?”  
Mollymauk nodded, pointing towards the pretty robes and swords just to the left of the black before putting a hand on his own chest, trying to tell her those belonged to him. She sat back on her heels, a tentative smile forming on her face, something almost reckless and wild. “You want to break out of here?” There was an edge to her tone, as if she had been waiting for someone to suggest it all day, and for the first time since he awoke, Mollymauk smiled, nodding his head, eagerly.  
Mollymauk watched as she cracked her knuckles, contemplating the situation. She shook her head a little, weighing whatever she considered to be her morals before sighing. “Fuck it. I’ve been stuck in this shithole for long enough anyway.” 

The smile embroidering Mollymauk’s face stretched into a wider grin as the woman agreed. He tried his best to stick out his hands for a two handed shake, awkwardly albeit with the chains only letting him go so far. The woman scoffed at the attempt, but humored him, taking his in hers. Her grip was firm and her skin was cold, much different from the heat emitting from himself. The giant woman seemed to be waiting for him to say something, to address her or something. After a minute of silence from the tiefling, the woman raised an eyebrow. “You’re a pretty weird guy, huh? Not gonna tell me your name or anything, or how you got here or...?” She trailed off, waiting for him to fill in the blanks.

With that, Mollymauk felt his heart drop. So she remembered. Obviously, whatever was affecting him wasn’t affecting her as well, and his mind raced with possible questions and situations. Whatever happened to him must have happened before he ended up in this mess, so how did he end up here? How did he lose every possible memory before this, what did his tattoos mean, where the hell did he get those swords from and why did he know they were his, and what was that egregious laughter crawling through his brain and the chill up the back of his spine and - 

Mollymauk’s episode was cut short by the dull tone of the woman speaking once more. “I’m Yasha.” Her words were blunt, direct, and Mollymauk watched as her hands moved to her chest, pressing flat against her breast in a familiar fashion. She moved her hand just in front of her once more and her fingers began to move, in slow patterns, careful and tentative. The movements were difficult with the chains, but the woman did her best as she signed. As she did, something in Mollymauk’s mind clicked, understanding what the gestures meant. _Y-A-S-H-A._ “Ya. Sha.” She said again, slowly to make sure he understood.  
Instinctively, Mollymauk’s hands began to move in response. He couldn’t figure out why, but his hands practically painted the maneuvers, as if he had used these symbols a thousand times before. _M-O-L-L-Y-M-A-U-K._

Yasha’s face grew soft as she watched him sign, following the movements intently. “Mollymauk?” She repeated, and as Mollymauk confirmed, she looked him over once more. “You’re the quiet type then, huh Mollymauk? That’s fine, I suppose. I don’t talk much myself.” She signed along with it, but her gestures were sloppy, and Mollymauk reached out, touching her shaking fingers, pushing them down a little.

 _I can hear, you don’t have to, but I appreciate it._ Fingers bent carefully, making sure to get every movement correct for someone who didn’t know it that well and Yasha followed carefully, making sure to take in every small gesture.

She nodded as Mollymauk finished before clearing her throat. “Alright. Well, I don’t suppose you have some kind of a plan to get us out of here, do you?”  
Mollymauk rolled his eyes, pointing back to the window. Looking out, they could see the front seat once more. The bigger man had gone. Where, Mollymauk had no clue, but that wasn’t relevant, what mattered was that the skinny man was left, lounging in the driver’s seat, lazily stroking the horse with one hand and holding a shotty spear in the other, barely paying attention. They outnumbered their captors now, 2-1. _We can take him._ Mollymauk signed, turning back to Yasha.

“And how do you suppose we do that from all the way back here? Don’t know if you noticed, but we’re kind of chained up” Yasha’s cynical tone rocked Mollymauk a little, and he stared at her with a dumbfounded look on his face. He held his hands out, miming ripping the cuffs in half with his bare hands, then pointing to the buff lady in front of him.

Yasha scoffed at the idea, but he could see her mind wandering. It would be a challenge, that was for sure, but Yasha could handle it. Just by looking at her, Mollymauk knew Yasha could handle it. Her arms were toned, legs defined, and Mollymauk knew she could rip _him_ in half if she tried hard enough, so measly iron chains most likely wouldn’t be able to hold her. But Yasha’s curiosity faded as fast as it had entered her. “And what makes you think I could do that?” She asked.

 _Because you’re really fucking strong._ Even as Mollymauk signed, his tone had a bite to it.

Yasha was silent for a moment, her focus on the manacles. She pulled at the metal, a small grunt slipping through her gritted teeth as she attempted to rip the chain attaching her wrists together in half. Mollymauk’s tail twitched, hearing the rusty iron beginning to give with a weak click. She stopped to catch her breath, and Mollymauk waved her on, a bit of encouragement. Yasha reluctantly started up again, her face reddening, her cheeks turning a pretty light pink before the tiefling heard a satisfying pop and Yasha looked down, her hands apart and movable. “Shit…” she laughed, staring at the metal pieces dangling from broken ends.

Within minutes, Yasha had both she and Mollymauk free from their constraints, and the two were sat in the center of the hay pile, Mollymauk proceeding to explain his plan. _If we can just get to our weapons, we should have no problem._ Yasha’s face was stone again, concentrating on the task at hand. The longer Mollymauk spent with Yasha, the more he seemed to pick up about her, though most of that was comments on her stoicness, how she barely moved and when she did it was with intent, never doing or saying more than necessary in the moment, like a soldier. Mollymauk wondered a second if that was her past, if this woman had at one point been involved in combat, but quickly shook it from his mind. If they got out of this, he’d have time to work out her origins later. _If we make a ruckus back here, he’ll make his way over, open the doors, we’ll be able to jump him easily, take the weapons and be on our way._

Yasha seemed sceptical. “Oh yeah? And if his buddy comes back?”

 _If we’re fast, he won’t._ Mollymauk added a little flair to his fingers, his personality shining through the words. 

The gleam in Yasha’s eyes was enough to confirm her willingness of this plan. “Sounds good to me. So? We doing this now?”

Mollymauk took a second to look back out the bars, checking to be sure they still had the upper hand. The skinny man was still there, and Mollymauk watched as he put down a freshly fletched arrow. Turning back, Mollymauk nodded, and suddenly, Yasha was on top of him, gripping his shirt, holding him close to her. “For realism.” She said, just before slamming him into the wooden wall with a loud thud. 

The world spun as Mollymauk’s head hit. The tiefling gasped in shock, his hands darting to grab hers, trying to pry them off in a panic. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the man in the front jump at the sudden jolt sent through the cart, grabbing his spear rather quickly and clambering out of his relaxed position. Mollymauk let out a breath he had no idea he was holding as he gave Yasha a thumbs up, kicking out against her chest to no real effect. The backdoor to the cart swung open as Yasha wound up a brutal looking punch. Both shrank back at the sight of sunlight. “Hey!” The voice of the young man pierced through the sounds of their scuffle “What the hell do you think you’re doing back here?!” He scolded, spear outstretched in front of him. 

Mollymauk glanced from the man back to Yasha, and for a moment, he was frightened by the absolute rage in her eyes, almost blazing with pure fury. “What the hell did you call me, jerk?!” Yasha exclaimed, her hands squeezing Mollymauk’s throat, who wriggled below her.

“Hey, Hey, Hey! Get back!” The man with the spear ordered, whacking Yasha across the back of the head with the butt of his weapon. 

Mollymauk’s new friend hit the ground with an unceremonious shuffle of straw, her hands falling from his neck. She grunted as she tried to push herself up, but the man’s spear point came to rest just between her shoulder blades and threatened to pierce her back. “How the hell…” The man trailed off as his eyes darted around the cart, counting shattered metal pieces scattered in with the dirty hay. Four manacles were laying on the floor, busted by strong arms as he glanced at the scene before him, suddenly remembering the purple tiefling. Hearing the scrambling of footsteps behind him, he gasped, turning towards the back of the cart, just catching the arrow pointed tail dipping around the side. “Hey!” The captor yelled, turning his attention away from Yasha as he moved to pursue Mollymauk. 

Mollymauk slid on his feet, scrambling into the cargo carrier. His swords were laying there, still swaddled in his ceremonial looking garb. Mollymauk snatched the bundle as he dove past it, swinging the coat over his shoulder and pulling the two blades. They felt familiar in his hands, and for once it was nice to feel something known. A strange feeling of power surged through him as his hands moved without half a mind’s thought, slicing his forearms on both sides. He hissed at the human chasing him, his forked tongue flicking out like a threatened snake. The scrawny man backed off a bit, his spear outstretched before addressing him, gritting his teeth. “Smart little son of a bitch…” He growled threateningly, his voice low and dangerous. Mollymauk’s eyes darted around the vicinity, gathering as much information as he could about the area. A thick forest stretched as far as the eye could see from the direction they came in, and in back of him was the open expanse of the sea, waves crashing like cymbals into the craggy cliffs below. Above him, the sky was grey and stormy, and as he scanned the clearing they were settled in, Mollymauk suddenly realized Yasha was nowhere in sight. His confident stance faltered a little, his face falling as he glanced around. The scrawny man noticed this, chuckling at his unsurity. “Where’s your little delinquent friend? Made a run for it and let you take the fall?” He teased, and Mollymauk suddenly felt a strong pair of hands grasp his horns from behind, forcing him to his knees. 

Mollymauk growled, his hands darting to the other’s as they put their weight on him, forcing him downwards, and his tail frantically swished from side to side in an attempt to hit whatever had snuck up on him. He heard an angry voice from behind him and felt a dagger at the side of his neck as the other hand, still firmly with a hold of his horn, tilted his head far to the other, giving him a good shot at a vital vein if need be. “Well aren’t you a fiery one?” The pot bellied man chuckled, yanking his horn sideways more, roughly. Mollymauk winced at the pain, but held his ground, refusing to cry out. “You’re an interesting find, I’ll give you that, but not interesting enough that I’m not willing to fucking gut you right here, understand? So, you’re gonna listen to me, loud and clear,” The man bent down, getting close to Mollymauk’s ear, sending shivers down his spine with his low growl, “You’re gonna calm the hell down, you’re gonna get back in the fucking cart, we’re gonna see how much money we can get for some exotic horns like yourself, and from then on, I don’t care what the hell they do with you, they could string you up with your filthy brethren, they could sell you off to some freaky sex ring, they could take your pretty little horns here and use them for wall decor for all I care, but for now, you’re gonna sit down, shut up and-”

His voice caught in his throat as his grip on Mollymauk’s horns loosened all of a sudden. Mollymauk looked up and watched as the man’s eyes rolled back in his head, and his body fell to the ground in two pieces with the nasty sound of raw meat hitting the floor, severed in half at the waist, bleeding out in the back of the cart. Over his body stood Yasha, breathing heavily, holding her follow through stance from the killing blow, her blade coated in crimson.

Mollymauk blinked, taking a surprised step back and falling out of the cart, grunting as his back collided with the ground. Opening his eyes to the sound of footsteps, he noticed the scrawny man beginning to make a run for it. Turning onto his stomach, the tiefling swung his swords with an incredible speed, slashing the man’s Achilles tendons with one fluid swipe. The man unceremoniously cried out, collapsing in the dirt as Mollymauk rushed to his feet. The man tried to scramble away from him, but Mollymauk matched each inch taken, his eyes bearing into the man’s soul. “Hey… Hey! C’mon dude!” The skinny guy begged as Mollymauk backed him against a large rock. “We… It was his idea, seriously! I… I didn’t want to do this, we found you all wrecked in the woods, all alone and you looked like an easy target, and-” Molly cut him off as he raised his scimitar, pressing it lightly under his chin.

He felt a hatred rising through his body and for a moment, words found him. “I hope you burn in the Hells, you fucking bastard…” Mollymauk muttered in Infernal, barely audible, his silent rage bubbling up inside causing him and suddenly, there was a flourish of white light, Mollymauk swinging his blades. His face was hard, his eyes beginning to blur with tears, and as Mollymauk looked down to the pathetic human at his feet, eyes closed, shrinking back with fear in his posture. His heart stopped, feeling nothing. The blades barely touched the human before him as Mollymauk used his weapon to gesture towards the woods, holding the blade out with conviction. The scrawny man who had curled in on himself to protect his vitals, opened one eye, confused as to why he was still alive. As he did, he saw Mollymauk, his head down, hair draped over his face, standing his ground as his whole body shook with raw rage he was forcing himself to hold back. Yasha stepped out of the cart, addressing the puny man before them both. “I believe my friend is letting you go,” She spoke with a conviction to her tone. “I think you should thank him for your life and be on your way before you end up like your buddy.”

The human man’s fear switched from Molly to Yasha in seconds, her frosty tone more threatening than any deadly tool. At first, the man did nothing, just sat there in quiet for a moment, considering what had just happened to himself and his ex partner. Then, the man ducked his head politely in a thank you, before starting off for the woods, attempting to crawl himself out. Mollymauk’s face remained stoic as he caught his breath, swallowing a hard lump in his throat, staring down at the blank space before him. His hands shook, and he dropped both scimitars suddenly, his hands instinctively raising to his mouth and turning away from the scene. His whole body trembled as if he were in an earthquake and he felt utterly sick. Suddenly, he felt a solid hand rest itself on his back, and a soft voice interrupted his thoughts. “Hey… Hey, calm down. You’re fine. Everything’s fine.” The strangely reassuring voice of Yasha rushed through him as he felt tears welling up in his chest.

He opened his mouth, trying to find the words to say again, but found he couldn’t, and without even realizing it, his arms were suddenly around Yasha’s middle, his face buried in her chest. Yasha’s arms were raised, awkwardly staring down at the sobbing tiefling. Slowly, she moved her hand to the top of his head, beginning to run fingers through his hair. “It’s okay, Molly. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. I get it.”

Mollymauk held onto her for what seemed like hours, trying to calm the panic inside before pulling back, his hands still quivering, but his eyes dry. He pointed to the body of the man in the cart. _We need to hide him_. He signed, unable to look Yasha in the eye. The burly woman nodded, beginning to move the bloody carcass into the back of the cart. Mollymauk sat, back up against the cart, his blades in his hands, wiping them clean of the blood they had amounted from severing the heels. Looking into them now, Mollymauk could see his reflection. He turned the blade this way and that, raising paint chipped nails to his cheek bones, examining every inch. His eyes were a blood red, his twisted horns pierced, his ornate tattoos printing themselves all the way up the side of his face. Whoever he used to be, he definitely wasn’t shy, Mollymauk realized as he looked himself over. No wonder they thought he was a freak.

Mollymauk watched Yasha as she got to work starting a large fire out of the scraps the two needed to discard of. Between the hay, the wood, and the surprising combustibility of a human body, the two new acquaintances soon had a brilliantly large bonfire at their disposal, slowly adding bit by bit to the flame just as the silver moons had begun to crest over the top of the forest. His beautiful robe pulled over his shoulders, Mollymauk leaned up against a nearby tree. He shuffled a set of cards he had found in his pocket as Yasha lounged against the other side, sharpening her sword and occasionally adding more fodder to the fire. There had been utter silence between them for hours, a mixture of Mollymauk’s inability to talk and Yasha’s inability to make conversation, two very different things. Mollymauk let his mind wander. His eyes were pins as he watched the cards fold in and out of each other, the pile mixing in his hands. An ace, a queen, a jack slide past, and Mollymauk was caught up in his movements, enthralled by sound of cardstock.

The tiefling was brought from his daydream by the questioning tone from the woman beside him. “Mollymauk?” He sniffled a little, refusing to meet her eyes. “Your hands are shaking again.” She noted, and Mollymauk self consciously tried to hide them in his coat.  
Yasha sighed softly, the stars twinkling in her eyes as she examined them. “You know,” She started, her attention taken by the shining lights, “You see that star there?”

Mollymauk followed where she pointed to, falling upon a bright star just over the far off mountain range. It was in the distance, but Mollymauk could see it as clear as day, a beacon in the blackness of the Wildemount sky. “That star’s called the Blessing of The Everlight. They say it’s named for a member of Vox Machina, the cleric. I don’t know how much of that you know about or believe, but they say you can only see her when you need her friendship most.” The large woman rested her head against the tree, crossing his arms and not once taking her focus away from the sky.

Mollymauk watched this, his eyes widening with curiosity at the night sky. His tail curled around himself as he moved closer to Yasha, so their shoulders were brushing. Yasha turned her head slightly to face him, a smile playing on her lips. “Normally I’m not this quick to take people in, but you’re not so bad, you know that, Mollymauk?” Mollymauk could tell Yasha wanted to lean out of the touch, but she let it happen, not moving until the tiefling himself pulled away, shaking his head.

His fingers moved once more, beginning to sign. He met Yasha’s gaze. _M-O-L-L-Y_ . _Call me Molly. My friends call me Molly._

That wasn’t a total lie, of course. Perhaps if Molly had any friends before all this, they may have called him Molly. Perhaps that was why it felt so nice, so natural when it had fallen from Yasha’s lips.

Yasha grunted in response, looking back out into the open expanse of the Exandrian night sky. “Molly…” She trailed off, almost as though she was trying to figure out something snarky to say, but thought better of it halfway through her idea. Instead, she kept her gaze pointed out, and for a second Molly could have sworn he watched the little shining star just over the mountain top glow brighter.

“Molly… I like it.”


End file.
